Speakeasy (True North #5)(74)

“If he hasn’t run away by now, that’s a good sign.”

“I guess.”

“She guesses,” Rita mumbles. “Stop trying to undermine his chances with you.”

“What do you mean?” That’s pretty harsh, seeing as I just got out of a relationship.

“You made him a sweater. That’s some serious juju. Are you trying to piss off fate?”

“Hey! I started that sweater before we began our little arrangement. I thought I was making it for a friend. And how do you know about the sweater?”

“A little bird told me. I met Alec the other day. He had a legal question.”

“He did? Why didn’t he ask me?”

“That’s what I told him to do, and I sent him packing. But try to let yourself be happy, okay? I’m begging here.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

“I want to come to the wedding.”

“Rita! Don’t jinx me.”

She cackles. “I would never. But you made him a sweater, so if it doesn’t work out, don’t look at me.”

“Goodnight, Rita.”

“Goodnight, May.”

Abandoning the movie, I walk slowly upstairs to my room. I still feel claustrophobic here in the farmhouse. But injuring myself has killed off any hope of moving out. I couldn’t manage it right now, and I need to buy a new car first.

Carefully, I tap out a text for Alec, left-handed. I miss you. And Rita was just quizzing me about the AA meeting. She asked what you thought about it, and I realized I didn’t actually ask you. Because I was afraid of what you’d say.

It takes him a half hour to reply, because he’s behind the bar trying to make a buck. But when the reply comes, it isn’t what I expect.

Can’t wait to talk to you. Could you leave the farmhouse door unlocked for me?

Sure, but there’s also a key under the doormat. Are you coming over later?

Can I?

Hell yes. Just be quiet on the stairs. My bedroom is the last one on the right. If you get that wrong, you’re going to scare the shit out of Dylan, Daphne, or Mom.

See you soon.

And now I’m filled with excitement. I’m seriously ecstatic just to snuggle with Alec and whisper with him for a little while. I can’t even get him naked because it would make too much noise. But I don’t even care, because he’s coming over, and I like him way too much to pretend otherwise.

I kill an hour taking a one-handed shower and drying my hair. Then I get into bed with a book, positive that I can’t fall asleep before he shows.

Sometime later, the book is lifted off my chest by a big hand. And then someone turns out the light. My eyes flutter open in the dark. “Alec?”

“Yeah, babydoll.” He toes off his shoes, and drops his coat on my chair. “Didn’t have to break in. Dylan’s watching movies downstairs. When I said I was here to visit you, he didn’t even bat an eye. I like him better than Griff.”

“I bet you do. What time is it?”

“Two.” Alec is still shedding clothing. I wish I could see him properly. But a minute later he’s nudging me to make room and sliding into my bed. When I reach for him, I’m disappointed to note that he’s still wearing a T-shirt and underwear.

Ah, well. His arms feel magnificent as he pulls me closer.

“Wait,” he says. “We need your good arm on top. Roll over.”

I do, and then I’m being spooned by the hunkiest bartender in Vermont. “Now tell me everything,” I whisper. “Rita says you visited her a few days ago?”

“Yeah. Real estate question. It can wait until tomorrow, though.” His hand strokes across my belly. “What did you want to talk about?”

I barely remember. “The AA meeting. What did you think?” Of course the question is bigger than that. I really want to know what Alec thinks of me.

“It was fascinating. I thought the girl telling the story was brave. Do you ever have to speak like that?”

“Sure. But not every meeting is one person’s big story. Sometimes there’s a topic chosen, and people share small things that are centered on that.”

“Like what topics?”

“Fear. Surrender. Acceptance. Grief. Atonement.”

“I get it.” He kisses the back of my head. “What kind do you like best?”

“It depends on my mood, I guess. The speakers give you a whole narrative. When the speaker is particularly insightful those are my favorite ones.”

“Are you ever just not in the mood to go at all?”

“Of course. But usually if I’m feeling that way, it means I need it the most.”

“Ah.” His hand settles on my stomach. “What else? Do you want me to go with you again sometime?”

“Maybe,” I whisper. “I guess I just wanted to know if you thought it was stupid, or if you suddenly realized I’m a big drag.”

I feel him chuckling against my back. “You think I’m never a drag?”

“No. I think you invented fun. I always have fun when we’re together.”

“But that’s not me, that’s us. You and I are just a naturally fun combo. Like peanut butter and chocolate.”

“Like popcorn and butter.”